[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/210324/c514e8101f58f889421092edb63edaa1.png[/img][/center][right][sub]April 9th - Morning[/sub][/right][hr]
Late on the first day. That wasn't a good start to the year. Daigo shifted his weight foot to foot in front of the stove as he bristled with a swell of anxiety that fast overtook the lingering traces of sleepiness still clinging to him. He should've just made his lunch the night before like he usually did, but there was yelling coming from the kitchen when he went downstairs to start and the boy had learned to stay quite clear of that over the last few months. Then, of course, he underestimated the time it would take and foolishly decided to ignore the first three of his five alarms, as enamored with the sleep schedule he'd picked up over the break as he was. Surely they'd have some leftover rice and whatever meat hadn't been served the night before in the fridge that Daigo could simply throw together and be on his way, right? Wrong. Now he was waiting for fresh rice to cook while juggling three different pans because even after all of those setbacks, he still convinced himself he could make a proper lunch. Just throwing half cooked food away wasn't an option; his father would kill him. Though, his father would probably kill him anyway if he saw how sloppily Daigo was folding the tamagoyaki.

Man's hubris truly knew no bounds as the ginger bravely turned back with the intent to start whisking together a quick sauce for his meal, humming a melancholy tune he'd picked up from a dream no differently than he would a cheery birdsong. He'd be fine. Being late didn't really matter. Sort of. Thankfully for his sake, the click of the rice cooker promptly interrupted that course of action. Right, no time. Daigo dumped the rice in the pan where he'd been frying his salmon for color. A dash of soy sauce, the rest of the vegetables, and he finally had a clump of food he could throw messily in his lunchbox. A nervous glance at his phone said that was all the time he was probably getting - 7:45, he was [i]so[/i] late. The dirty pans all clattered into the sink with little more than a quick rinse; he could clean them properly when he got home, no one would even notice.

Daigo rushed downstairs, pirouetting skillfully past a passing waitress that was setting up for the day's service on his way toward the side door. [color=ff9933]"Sorry-sorry-sorry,"[/color] He called back with an awkward bow of his head before poking his head into the kitchen briefly. [color=ff9933]"I'm leaving!"[/color] Once again, the boy didn't wait for a response; he had no time to waste, so he bounded out the door and started running down the street as unassumingly as one can move at that speed.

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Daigo arrived at the gates of Hinotori High School winded and almost wheezing, but at least he was on time. At least, he thought he was, but as he looked around, the unfamiliar scenery suggested he wasn't even at the right school. He [i]wasn't[/i] even at the right school! For a fraction of a second, Daigo's visage cracked with a defeated frown. A couple latecoming students shot a confused glance at the kid doubled over and panting at the gates and looking like he'd just witnessed a murder, but most just hurried inside. Would he look like too much of an idiot if he turned around and walked away? Wasn't like he could be double-late. His stomach lurched, and not just because that degree of exercise didn't agree with him. All that effort, only to end up still late because of some stupid navigational error. How did he even do that?! Did he make a wrong turn? No, it was fine. The first thing he needed to figure out was where he'd even ended up, but when he turned his head toward the sign it read... Hinotori High School?

Right, the renovations must've finished. That would explain everyone else having a matching uniform, now that his brain was back to thinking rather than panicking. He was such an idiot. It [i]was[/i] fine. Of course it was. Daigo cleared his throat and stood back upright, adjusting his glasses to hide the blush of embarrassment creeping across his features (and the fact that his eyes were stinging a little but was just because of allergies, darn it!). Now that he thought about it, this was almost worse - 'Hinari was being a fucking weirdo at the gates today' was far more worthy of gossiping about than him simply being late. At least he hadn't done something dramatic like wail in despair.

Daigo slipped in to the first available seat he saw when he finally arrived at the gymnasium, which of course meant awkwardly sliding past people since edge seats were popular with people who didn't want to be somewhere, and he didn't think anybody actually [i]wanted[/i] to be at the opening ceremony. Even as a bright-eyed first year, he'd only found it engaging until the principal's welcome blended into pointless droning and a buzzing feeling in his legs kept screaming at him to get up and [i]move[/i]. That was fine, though; the renovations were probably great and new amenities were cool to learn about, even if it would probably sound like bragging on the administration's part.

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